


By Any Other Name

by omelet



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omelet/pseuds/omelet
Summary: Sidney does not have a soulmate mark, until he does, and then everything just goes downhill from there.





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> I really did not intend to write this fic but I did anyway
> 
> Dedicated to lacye, who I was talking to about this like a year ago
> 
> Unbeta'd because lmao

“You hear about what happened at the Capitals game last week?”

“Yeah, who hasn’t.”

On the other side of the locker room, Sidney follows the conversation idly as he laces up his skates. Last week, Alexander Ovechkin’s wristband was torn off in the middle of a game. No one saw anything - Backstrom had his hand closed tight around his wrist before people even noticed the infamously garish wristband lying snapped on the ice - but it still caused a small uproar. Speculation about players’ soulmate marks is generally discouraged, but no one can really control what people talk about.

While the conversation continues, Flower glances over at Sidney. “Do you ever change yours out?”

“Hm?”

“Your wristband.”

Sidney follows Flower’s gaze, looking down at his wristband, before shaking his head. “No, I’ve always had this one.”

Flower shoots Sidney an incredulous look. “Seriously? I thought you were changing them out every -,” he stops himself, letting out a sigh. “Nevermind, I forgot who I was asking.” Sidney almost wants to take offense but Flower just ushers the conversation forward. “Aren’t you worried it’s going to snap one day too?”

“You know he’s just going to have it repaired forever, like his jock,” Tanger quips easily, eliciting a few chuckles around the room. Sidney scowls. “But seriously, isn’t there some rule you have to change it every season?”

“Like _you_ read the rules,” Flower chirps.

“Dumb rules,” Geno speaks up two stalls down as he’s tugging his jersey over his head.

“You hate every rule.”

“Because they’re dumb,” Geno emphasizes. “Wristbands don’t break very easy anyway.”

Tanger snorts.”You would know. Yours is _so_ old. You can probably sell it for a shitload of money.”

“Mine best,” Geno says loftily. “I never sell.”

Sidney quirks a grin while Flower shakes his head at the both of them with mock disapproval. “Thanks for the concern, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

Flower laughs. “That’s something to worry about, too.”

 

-

 

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

Geno’s chair creaks when Geno turns to look at Sidney. “What you mean?”

Sidney glances back at him. “I mean, do you think we really all have one?”

It’s a mild enough night to sit out on the back deck with their beers and it’s better than watching a playoff game they wished they were in. It’s just the two of them tonight. Over the years, it’s been this way more often than not; their friends and teammates have found their soulmates, started settling down and having families. Sometimes, they’re the only ones with the free time, with nothing to do in the evenings.

“Weird question, Sid,” Geno says, a little teasing. “You already drunk?”

Sidney laughs softly, because maybe he is. “You’re saying you’ve never thought about it?”

Geno grins, a small concession, before he shrugs. “Sure.” He tilts his head upward, letting out a thoughtful hum. “I don’t know. Like,” he shifts in his chair, “all you have is name on your wrist, right? But lots of people have same name. How you know which one is right one? Hard to say, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sidney says, nodding absently. There’s a reason there’s books upon books about soulmate marks, discussing theories about why they started appearing on people’s wrist in the first place, if they’re even what everyone thinks they are.

“So I think, maybe name is important, maybe not. But we have mark for reason.” Geno shrugs again before lifting his bottle to his lips. “Just maybe is more like hint.”

Sidney looks at the faded Penguins logo on the band around Geno’s wrist, sitting right above his Lokomotiv band.

“Maybe,” Sidney says, before taking a drink too.

 

-

 

Sidney wouldn’t say that he doesn’t like change.

It was just a routine. Every morning, before he got out of bed, he would hold up his left arm and run his thumb across the pale, unmarked skin over his wrist. He would grapple for the wide black silicone band on the nightstand, the same one he’s had for years, and pull it on until it was snug around his wrist. When he got home, he would take the band off, put it back in its place on the nightstand, look at his wrist, and see nothing, the same thing he’s been seeing for years.

He’s made his peace with it. He’s almost 30 now and the things that distracted him from his apparently late soulmate mark when he was younger distract him still, like playing hockey, like trying to win the Cup. There’s no way to force it anyway, not that he would want to, so he’s content with leaving it mostly out of mind. It’s just another habit now, the action of looking for it, the motions more like reflexes rather than deliberate movements. If it comes, if it doesn’t, he doesn’t think about it either way.

Until one morning, when Sidney finds himself sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at his wrist and the mark that wasn’t there before.

 

 

\--

 

 

For a few days, he actually doesn’t tell anyone.

Over the years, there have been a few teammates who woke up finding soulmate marks on their wrists. Sidney knows there are some locker rooms where guys get made fun of if they make a big deal out of it, but he tries not to make it like that here; they’ve got a lot of young guys here, with their whole lives ahead of them, and finally having a mark is a big deal. It’s good to to be able to talk about it, whether it’s with the whole room or just a few guys you’re close to on the team.

Sidney, though, has always been a private person. While he would tell his teammates if they asked - which they do, every once in a while, like they want to make sure he’s not keeping it a secret -, he’s not going to bring it up on his own. The truth is that he just really didn’t think about this eventually happen, even though he knew it would; he had put the whole soulmate mark thing so far back in his mind that he just never really thought about who he would tell first, when he would tell them, how he would tell them.

Sitting in his stall, Sidney fiddles with his wristband. He know it doesn’t make any sense, but he’s constantly aware of the mark on his wrist, almost as though it has a physical weight. It’s starting to make him a little anxious and it wouldn’t be good if it carries over into his ability to play.

Two stalls over, Geno tugs at his own wristband while he looks at his phone. Sidney tries not to overthink it. He stands and walks over to Geno.

“Hey,” Sidney says quietly, tapping Geno’s shoulder. “Got a minute?”

It takes a beat before Geno looks up from his phone and nods, setting his phone aside and tossing some stuff into his stall before following Sidney. “What’s up?”

Geno looks at Sidney expectantly while Sidney stares into the middle distance with his arms crossed over his chest, one hand rubbing his cheek. Sidney’s mind is suddenly very blank. He was sort of hoping that between walking from Geno’s stall to an unoccupied corner of the room he would know how to start this conversation, but, much to his chagrin, it did not happen.

“Everything okay?” Geno asks slowly, starting to look a little concerned.

Sidney finally looks at Geno, who is clearly hanging in suspense, and, not knowing what else to do, blurts, “I have a mark.”

Geno stares at him, stunned. Not knowing what else to say after that, Sidney pulls back his wristband and shows him, like maybe that will help mitigate the very uncomfortable silence, somehow. It doesn’t; Geno just starts staring at the mark instead. After several long moments, Geno lifts his hand, stopping right under Sidney’s wrist, his eyes glancing up to meet his for a moment, like he’s asking for permission. Sidney lowers his wrist onto Geno’s and Geno holds it, runs his thumb across the mark. Sidney tries his best to suppress the shiver that goes down his spine.

“It wasn’t drawn on, G,” Sidney says flatly when Geno starts to prod and rub at the mark. Geno gives him an apologetic, sheepish look.

“It’s not a name,” Geno finally says, his voice faint, his hand still cradling Sidney’s.

“Yeah, that threw me off too.”

Geno nods absently. “Since when?”

“Few days ago.”

Sidney tries to gauge his reaction, but Geno’s expression is strangely neutral. Geno doesn’t say anything. They both stare at the mark. In fact, they’re so busy staring at the mark that they both miss it when Tanger walks by and then stops dead in his tracks beside them.

“Wha -”

Sidney jerks, seeing Tanger’s wide eyes now also staring at his wrist. “Uh -”

Tanger grabs him by the wrist before Sidney can even think about hiding it away, snatching it in his vice-like grip with seemingly superhuman speed.

“Fleury!” Tanger shouts in French, his eyes still glued to the mark. “Get over there!”

In the distance, Sidney can hear Flower shout his response. “What’s happening?”

Tanger shakes his head slowly, as if in disbelief, his eyes wild. Sidney isn’t sure if he’s about to laugh or cry or yell. “Sid has a fucking emoji on his wrist!”

A _what_.

“A what?” Sidney repeats out loud, barely audible over a distant crashing noise followed by thundering footsteps. Sidney is so confused he looks to Geno, hoping that maybe he’s not alone in this, but Geno’s looking down at the mark with something like wonder, which makes no sense because he’s pretty sure the only words Geno understood coming out of Tanger’s mouth were “Fleury”, “Sid” and “emoji”. So he looks back at the mark, the little  smack dab in the middle of his wrist, and wishes he understood what the hell was going on.

 

-

 

The next few hours following that turned out to be more eventful than he had wanted them to be.

_you can’t say it isn’t the biggest  you’ve seen_

Sidney seriously considers blocking Flower’s number.

Tossing his phone onto the couch with a heavy sigh, he looks up when he hears a knock on the door. He already knows who it is by the sound of the engine he heard a few moments before and the silhouette cast by the porchlight behind the glass.

“You run away so fast I’m not even get chance to talk to you,” Geno jokes when Sidney opens the door to let him in.

“If I didn’t, everyone was going to chirp me all the way to my car,” Sidney grumbles as he retreats back to the couch. He gestures at his abandoned phone, the screen still flashing with every incoming text. He makes sure to toss it on the other armchair just in case Geno gets inquisitive. “Not that that’s stopping them.”

Geno laughs as he follows, pulling off his jacket and tossing it over the arm of the couch before settling in next to him. “Good thing I’m such good friend, lock them in the room for you.”

Sidney chortles. “Thanks, G.”

Geno laughs again before falling silent. Sidney lets out a quiet breath, sinks deeper into his couch, and taps his fingers on his thigh. Geno bounces his leg a little. The silence stretches. Sidney doesn’t know who’s going to bring it up first. He doesn’t particularly want to be the one to do it, even though he should, but he knows it’s going to have to happen.

He has a mark now.

Geno ends up being the one to do it. “I’m want to make sure you’re okay,” he says, rubbing his neck. “You know, soulmate mark.” He waves his hand vaguely in the air. “Big thing.”

“Yeah.”

Geno looks at him, then down and away. He picks at a loose thread on the couch. “You didn’t tell me.”

“Hm?”

“When you get your mark.”

Sidney scratches his cheek. “It was -,” he sighs and shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t know how to bring it up. I mean, it’s a - it’s -”

“Emoji,” Geno finishes for him, barely stifling what sounds suspiciously like a giggle.

Sidney drops his face in his hands. “Geno, this is serious,” he says through his fingers, not even convincing himself.

He hears Geno clear his throat. “Yes, very serious.”

Sidney lets out a long, arduous sigh as he closes his eyes and rubs at his brow. “An emoji,” he repeats faintly. He still can’t believe it. “A _dick_ emoji.”

“Sid!” Geno exclaims, scandalized yet delighted.

“It’s what it is!” Sidney cries despairingly as Geno falls victim to uncontrollable, raucous laughter. “That’s all everyone’s telling me!”

Sidney can only muster a glare at Geno for so long before he bursts into a fit of giggles too. It was already a lot to process, with the fact that he finally has a mark now, but then adding the fact that it’s not even a name but a dirty emoji, it’s just so ridiculous he can hardly take it. Soulmate marks are supposed to be this deeply personal thing, but he gets _this_.

“God,” Sidney says to the ceiling, breathless. “Has this ever happened? Like in history?”

Geno manages to compose himself for a few moments. “World changing every day,” he says sagely. “You know, with internet and everything. Soulmate marks change too. Change into emojis.”

“Shut up, Geno.”

Geno snickers. “You tell your family yet?”

“I didn’t even know what it was until Tanger told me.” Sidney sighs again, for the umpteenth time today. “Now that I do, I don’t think I _want_ to tell them.”

“So you tell me first?”

“Yeah,” Sidney admits, glancing at Geno, who looks surprised. “It just felt like a good place to start.” Then he adds, “I mean, you didn’t immediately start laughing when you saw it.”

“Too shock to laugh.”

“Wow, thanks.”

Geno smiles wide. Then he sighs, sounding a little sad. “I'm guess this means no more hanging out. You going to be busy finding soulmate.”

Sidney feels an odd uneasy feeling settle over him. It never really came up, what they would do if they got their marks, but you just sort of assume that everyone would want to find their soulmate. After all, who wouldn’t want to?”

Sidney eventually lets out a short laugh. “How am I supposed to do that with this?”

“Tinder.”

“ _Geno_.”

Geno pokes his tongue out when Sidney shoots him a look. “But not going to start tonight, right?”

There’s something in Geno’s eyes when he looks at him that makes Sidney’s heart twist, but Sidney doesn’t press. “No,” Sidney just answers. “Not tonight.”

 

-

 

Sidney ignores the mark, or at least, he tries to. It’s not like a name, where you can listen for it or ask your friends if they know someone by the name or sign up for one of those sites with databases of people looking for their soulmate. His morning routine doesn’t change much either; instead of looking for something new on his wrist, he looks to see if maybe the mark had vanished during the night, like maybe it was some kind of mistake made by whoever makes this thing happen in the first place, or maybe it was an elaborate prank by Flower like he had originally hoped.

Nothing else really changes, except the nights. Geno doesn’t come around anymore, unless Sidney mentions having nothing to do. Geno doesn’t explain himself and Sidney doesn’t bring it up, so that’s just the way it goes.

“I hate this,” Sidney says glumly a couple months after he got his soulmate mark.

Flower laughs, not even needing to ask what he’s talking about. “The soulmate search not going well?”

Sidney stares at the opposite wall. He’s gone out a couple times now, alone, starting out with intent of “meeting new people”, often ending up with nursing a beer or two in the corner of a bar before going home. People have managed to strike up conversations with him, even managing to lead it toward talking about soulmate marks, but then every time, without fail, Sidney answers every inquiry with a very vague and intentionally confusing “Um.” and much to his relief, the conversation, without fail, fizzles and dies out.

“It’s not going at all,” Sidney finally answers.

Flower sighs. “Sid, you have to get out there and try.”

“I _have_ ,” Sidney grumbles defensively. Flower shoots him a look. “I have an emoji, Flower!”

“So what? You have to work with what you got. I know it’s not what you expected, but what were you hoping for?”

“An actual name would’ve been nice,” Sidney mutters. “If not that, then nothing would be better.”

Flower looks at him, his lips a little downturned. Sidney knows he’s being a little unreasonable and petulant, but he can’t help it. “So what if you had a name?” Flower eventually posits. “You’d still be doing the same thing, right?”

Sidney looks down at his wristband. He imagines a name. He looks away. “I guess, but it would be...different.”

“Okay, so what if it was someone you knew?”

“Like who?”

Flower grins slyly. “Oh, so you have different thoughts depending on who?”

“N-No, I’m just saying -”

Flower just laughs as Sidney sputters, struggling and failing to form a defense. “So you want a soulmate, but you don’t want it to be anyone new and you don’t want it to be just anyone you know either. Then when you think about ‘soulmate’, who are you thinking about?”

 

-

 

One of the first things Sidney and Geno did together at the Igloo was go to the team store. Actually, it was Sidney, Gonch, and Geno, but Geno wasn’t “Geno” yet, but “Evgeni Malkin”, Sidney’s new teammate who suddenly showed up Mario’s doorstep before dinner a few nights before.

“He’s like you,” Gonch had told him while they watched Geno amble around the store, one of their stops while showing him around the rink. “He doesn’t have his mark yet.”

Sidney looked at Gonch, surprised. He knew that soulmate marks weren’t exactly something that you could ask people about, especially since Geno didn’t seem up for much conversation, much less a conversation about something as personal as that, but Sidney had been wondering about it, thinking that maybe Geno had an English name on his wrist, that maybe that was a part of the reason he was so desperate to get to America, to play in the NHL.

“He told me he doesn’t think about it much. Said that make it easier, leaving.” Gonch shrugged. “You don’t have to tell him about yours if you don’t want to. But it might help.”

It was the closest thing to permission that Sidney got. In truth, he really did want to talk to him, but Geno had seemed so overwhelmed with everything that was going on that Sidney thought that maybe he deserved some space.

But Sidney had approached Geno then, did a little awkward handwave in greeting, earning a small nod in return, before following Geno on his surveying of the team store. They didn’t speak much - when they came across the jerseys, Geno pointed at the ones with Sidney’s name on them and grinned when Sidney laughed sheepishly and flushed - until they came across the shelf with the Penguins wristbands.

A lot of people cover their wrists, either to conceal the name of the soulmate they haven’t met yet - apparently people like the surprise or mystery or whatever - or the fact that they don’t have one yet. Watches can suffice, as well as bulky jewelry, but those can get in the way, especially when playing a sport, so silicone bands are pretty popular, especially for athletes. The NHL only requires players to have one, but don’t specify anything beyond that, so Sidney’s seen some personalized ones out there on the ice; Sidney remembers when Taylor had a phase when she bedazzled hers. Geno paused in front of the shelf, looking at the wristbands, occasionally picking one up and putting it back down.

Sidney watched him. Geno gave up so much to come here, but there must be things he misses. He must miss home.

“Gonchar told me you don’t have a mark,” Sidney said softly, pointing at his wrist and shaking his head when Geno turned to look at his wrist, then him questioningly.

After a moment, Geno blinked and nodded.

Sidney chewed on his lip, suddenly nervous. “I uh, I don’t either.” Geno’s eyes widened when Sidney turned out his own wristband, showing him his bare wrist before quickly turning it back over. “I don’t mind it either. It means that I can just focus on playing hockey, you know?”

Geno blinked at him again. Sidney turned back to the boxes of wristbands on the shelf, looking them over before plucking one out. It was a simple, wide, black band, just like his own, the sole difference being the small Penguins logo on it. After making sure Geno hadn’t scrunched his nose at it or anything, Sidney jogged over to Gonch, asking how he could pay for it when there were no employees around - Gonch unceremoniously yanked off the tag and handed it back to him -, before returning to Geno.

“You’re a part of our team now,” Sidney told him, holding the wristband out to Geno, suddenly shy.

Geno looked at him, then at the band, before taking it, holding it in his hands. “Thank you.”

The first time Geno smiled at him, right after he smoothed the band flat over his wrist, Sidney smiled back, letting go of his held breath with a shaky, giddy laugh.

 

-

 

“Hey,” Sidney hears someone say as they sidle up next to him. “Want some company?”

They say that when you haven’t met your soulmate yet, it feels like missing a stranger. He knows it isn’t realistic to think that he’ll just know who his soulmate is, knows that it’s a process of meeting and getting to know people, taking risks, letting them in. He thinks about it, thinks about going through all of those motions, and, in the back of his mind, there’s a voice asking him, _Didn’t you go through all of that already? Didn’t you already have that?_

_When you think about ‘soulmate’, who are you thinking about?_

“Sorry,” Sidney says with an apologetic smile. “I’m waiting for someone.”

 

-

 

It’s a rare night when Geno comes over alone now.

Sidney glances at Geno. “You know, just because I have a mark doesn’t mean you can’t come around anymore,” he says wryly.

Geno smiles a little sheepishly, like he’s been caught. “Don’t want to walk in on date one day, make things awkward,” he says, poking his tongue out.

Sidney laughs as he leans against the wooden railing on the back deck. “Yeah, there’s none of that going on here.”

Geno shoots him a disbelieving look. “What? Why?” He asks, nudging Sidney with his elbow. “No one want to date Sidney Crosby? I’m not believe you.”

Sidney scrunches his nose. “It’s just weird.”

“How’s weird?”

“Like people talk about what it’s like to meet your soulmate, about having these sort of _feelings_.”

“Feelings,” Geno repeats, amused.

Sidney flushes. “I don’t know, it’s just - it’s what I read. On the internet.”

Geno doesn’t laugh, but he grins, like he wanted to tease him about it but decided against it. “Have to meet soulmate first before you need to worry about that.”

Sidney harrumphs at him and drinks his beer, letting the companionable silence settle between them. He knows why Geno is just trying to give him space. The truth is that he’s missed these nights, just being able to be in a place where he’s comfortable, with someone he’s comfortable with. Ever since the mark, he’s felt off-balance, but nights like these make him almost feel like the way it was before. It almost feels like things are normal again.

“It’s always so awkward,” Sidney admits, his heart speeding up. ”With other people.”

Geno hums. “Need time to get to know.”

“I know.” Sidney sighs, frustrated. “But it’s just - it’s nothing like the way it was with -”

Geno looks at him when Sidney trails off. “With?”

Sidney can feel his heart pounding against his chest. “With you.”

Not having marks, not having a name in the back of their minds made it easier. It was easy to give into the pull, when all you wanted was to be close to someone without having to worry about forevers, when all you wanted was to not feel alone. It was easy with Geno, who had been through so much with him, who could crowd into his space and still keep him at ease, who drew him in first whenever he wasn’t brave enough. It started out as a convenience and it wasn’t until the mark appeared and things changed between them when Sidney realized that it was more than that.

He doesn’t want to go to any more bars or listen to someone ask about his mark. He doesn’t want to look at anyone else.

Geno doesn’t meet his eyes. “Know each other a long time,” he says, like it’s an explanation, an excuse.

“It’s not that,” Sidney whispers. He needs him to know. “I miss you.”

“You see me almost every day,” Geno tries to joke, just a beat too late.

“I mean I miss how it was before the mark, with us,” Sidney says, aching, hoping that the cautious hope in Geno’s eyes means something. “I miss - I always wanted it to be you.”

The hesitance fades as Geno smiles, small but genuine, relieved and happy. “Okay.”

Sidney blinks at him. “‘Okay’? That’s it?”

Geno touches Sidney’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says lightly. “That’s it.”

Like it was just that simple. “Don’t you wonder?” Sidney asks, his voice barely escaping past the lump in his throat. “What it means? Who it really is?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Geno says softly.

It’s not proof, or even an explanation, but Geno leans down to kiss him and Sidney meets him halfway. He’s heard that meeting your soulmate feels like relief, like the release of a tension you don’t remember feeling until the moment you meet them, but he’s known Geno for years, touched him like this before, so he doesn’t know if this is supposed to be it. This isn’t something new, but something warm and familiar, something that makes him feel settled, like coming home.

 

 

\--

 

 

It’s hard for Sidney to not think about it, the mark he doesn’t understand, what Geno said that night.

Lying in bed, Sidney watches Geno as he sleeps, the morning light falling just under his cheek. Geno’s hand lies between them; Sidney looks at his wristband before he lifts his hand, touching it lightly.

For years, they didn’t have marks and Geno kept this wristband, has worn it for almost as long as Sidney has know him and for Sidney, it was as good as a name. For a while, he could pretend that this was how it was supposed to be. He could pretend Geno was his.

He wants him to be his.

By now, the light has moved up to Geno’s eyes and Geno stirs, blinking awake and yawning before rubbing his eyes with his other hand. He looks at Sidney, at his hand on his wrist, and quirks a grin.

“You still have this,” Sidney says.

“Of course,” Geno answers, like it wouldn’t make sense to not still have it.

Sidney runs his fingers over the logo. “What’s going to happen when you get your mark?” He asks. “I mean, what happens to us?”

Geno doesn’t say anything for a few moments. “You think about that? About us?”

He’s always wanted it to be them, wanted it to be the right choice, and maybe he’s always going to be wondering, but he’ll just have to take it. He wants this. “Yeah,” Sidney answers.

A small smile grows on Geno’s lips. “I’m always think you waiting for your soulmate,” Geno confesses. “But you come back and then I think maybe is a sign for me. Maybe I have a chance.”

“What do you mean?”

“I ah, have a mark.”

Sidney almost thinks he heard him wrong because that can’t possibly be what Geno just said. “What.”

Geno’s gaze sort of roves somewhere over his head. “For a while now, actually.”

Sidney’s mind goes blank. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s in shock over the fact that _Geno has a mark_ or if it’s because he’s ready to murder him.

“Can look, if you don’t believe me,” Geno says. Sidney looks back at Geno’s wrist, his fingers still touching the band, and he takes in a deep breath.

He slowly pushes it up, peeling it back, millimeter by millimeter, his heart beating impossibly faster with each passing second until he sees -

“Oh my god,” Sidney nearly chokes.

A.

“I remember I’m see you in the locker room,” Geno says wistfully as he apparently reminisces, while Sidney stares uncomprehendingly at the mark. “See your butt. Is pink, just like peach.”

“Oh my god,” Sidney repeats with emphatic suffering, feeling his face slowly turn as pink as the on Geno’s wrist.

Geno is trying really hard to commit to this, but his toothy smile gives it away, even as he says, with great tenderness, “Look at my mark, look at your butt. Then I’m know, must be you.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Sidney groans, covering his burning face with his hands. He kind of wants to yell but mostly he just wants to _laugh_ because he’s so embarrassingly _happy_ that Geno has a mark just as ridiculous as his, an emoji just like him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Geno snorts. “What I’m supposed to say? ‘Sid, I have butt emoji, you have dick emoji. We are soulmates. Let’s get married’?”

Fine, he has a point but still. “I would’ve believed you,” Sidney mumbles, probably unconvincingly. Geno’s expression says as much, a mixture of fond but mostly dubious.

“I’m know you,” Geno says in a sort of what-can-you-do tone, like he knew all along that this entire situation just couldn’t be helped. “Something like this, you want to know for sure.”

“Don’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Geno says, smiling cheekily because he knows this is what’s annoying Sidney so much. “Who cares about marks, Sid? Want it to be you, so I choose you. And if you choose me, then that’s soulmates, right?”

Judging by the look on Geno’s face, Sidney thinks he’s supposed to be touched by this. “It’s a _butt_ emoji, G,” he laments.

“ _Sid._ ”

“Mine is a _dick_.”

“You know, maybe I can have better butt than yours. But I like yours best.”

“So I’m choosing you for your dick?”

Geno pouts. “You saying it’s not your favorite?”

“I hate you, this isn’t romantic at all,” Sidney mutters, turning over onto his other side to hide his smile in his pillow.

So maybe it doesn’t matter that they have emojis, or even if they had names instead or no marks at all for the rest of their lives. He’s back to where he was, where he’s always wanted to be, with Geno, whining in his ear.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it to the end, lmao thank you
> 
> (do you think about whether or not sidney feels it when geno touches his mark and vice versa? because i do)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] By Any Other Name by Omelet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11431857) by [brightnail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightnail/pseuds/brightnail)




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